And the barista who gave me a cup with the extra milk after she steamed too much.

These are a collection of small sweets. Easily forgotten points of beauty on the map of a common day.

I could run over them, past them in the haste of ordinary life.

They probably won't make it into any year-end highlights or holiday letters. If I only saw you every so often, I'd be more likely to tell you about the relationship that went sour than the grocery store owner who always remembers my name.

But I have decided I want to be an active participant in what fills my memory. For our time is the sum of things both large and little.

I am sharing these small sweets with you to commemorate them. I want to lift them up into the higher shelf of my consciousness, the shelf I draw from when I think back over a day, a season, a couple of years.

So much of our minds are made up of what we remember. And I've come to believe that these small sweets are worthy of our memory.

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